


Don't Rush Me

by Lautremonde



Category: Pocket Monsters: Sun & Moon | Pokemon Sun & Moon Versions, Pocket Monsters: Ultra Sun & Ultra Moon | Pokemon Ultra Sun & Ultra Moon Versions
Genre: Alcohol, Background Lillie/Female Protagonist (Pokemon), Cunnilingus, Drinking, F/M, Laughter During Sex, Oral Sex, Post-Game, Science, bad pokemon trainers, classism & crime
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-27
Updated: 2019-05-29
Packaged: 2020-03-20 11:48:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18992059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lautremonde/pseuds/Lautremonde
Summary: Half-assed but wholly educated pokéscientist Shalour “I’m infamous inJapanJohto” Tesni made the move to Alola to lie low after a colossal (and near criminal) screw up, hoping to start over. Now she just needs to figure out what do do with the rest of her life. It’s tough when her reputation as a screw up is following her across the globe in the form of a pesky bit of legislation with her name on it.Both she and a local infamous criminal are too up their own asses to recognize each other. Both think the other is a poser. They still bang.Featuring: dramatic irony, video game logic, smut, and second chances.





	1. A Hundred Days Hungover

**Author's Note:**

> Hey folks I know I missed the Guzma thirst train by like, two years. But I'm here now!

Tesni woke to the warm Alolan sun behind her closed eyelids, the gentle sounds of the waves crashing against the shore, a _splitting_ headache, and the general knowledge that she had fucked up. She groaned and turned her face to try and block the light, but found that only rubbed her fresh sunburn into the sand.

“Fuck fuck fuck _fuckkk…_ ” She wasn’t built to party this hard anymore; four days in a row of drinking was apparently her limit. She was nauseous, her head hurt, she was making bad choices, and － there was a sharp stabbing pain in her temple, more than just the hangover. Opening her eyes, a doduo’s twin heads stared imperiously down at her, before pecking her again.

“ _Ouch!_ ” Tesni rolled over more, covering her head with her arms. “Just leave me alone to suffer, Dipshit!”

Dipshit pecked her again and when that elicited only a grunt, Tesni heard the shuffling of its feet in the sand. For a moment, she thought Dipshit was actually doing what she was told for once, but then from either side of her head, Dipshit _screamed_. Tesni reared up in between Dipshit’s two heads, clonking one with her shoulder, her stomach rolling at the sudden movement. The offended head glared at her murderously while Tesni stumbled and reached out, using Dipshit to balance herself.

“Fine! Okay, whatever.” She glanced around at the beach and found that luckily it was still early enough in the morning that the shore wasn’t absolutely full of tourists gawking at her. Just one family that seemed a little flustered at having to explain the passed out woman to their children.

“You’re too scrawny to carry me,” Tesni informed Dipshit. She spared a brief, wistful thought for her college days, when she’d have her scolipede Steropé drag her home after a long night. But sadly, riding an eight foot tall centipede back to her room at the resort was probably counter to the whole idea of laying low in Alola.

She leaned cautiously into Dipshit as she made her way up the beach and back to the Hano Grand Resort. At least it was a short walk, so there were fewer people to stare at her as she bitched and moaned. She definitely stood out like a sore thumb making her dirty, sunburnt way across the opulent courtyard in last night’s tits-out outfit. For all the money she’d come out with, even after legal fees, she hadn’t figured out how to blend with the nouveau riche, much less the old money. She wasn’t sure if she even wanted to.

She reached her door and, after figuring out where her key card was, recalled Dipshit to her pokéball over twin squawks of outrage. Her suite was empty and quiet, gloomy with the curtains still drawn. She stripped off her outfit and headed for the unnecessarily spacious and airy shower. It looked beautiful, but as soon as she shut off the hot water it was freezing in all the open air.

Her stomach roiled with nausea at the change in temperature. She found her hangover outfit as quickly as possible, hissing as the fabric scraped at her sunburn. It was a romper, floral patterned and _short_ to show off her over-muscled cyclist legs, but baggy hanging off chest, to let her abused stomach breath. She ran a hand through the short, sloppy curls of her undercut, and called it good enough for public consumption.

She made a shuffling half-run for a diner she’d discovered in Heahea City during hangover number one. It seemed to largely serve locals, like the fishermen and resort workers, who actually needed to be up with the sun, rather than the sleepy resort crowd. It worked out well for Tesni. She tended to be woken up by dehydration or her _asshole escape artist doduo_ at 7AM whenever she’d been out drinking to excess.

The diner was a little shabby, the type of place you could get really good eggs and really shit coffee. It had faded orange booths, formica tables, a counter with spinny vinyl stools that squeaked, and a window into the back where the chef could be seen. As she slid into her new favorite seat at the counter, the waiter, Clem, gave her an unimpressed look. “Morning Tesni,” he said, “the usual?”

“Please,” Tesni said. “You don’t serve Bloody Mary’s do you?”

“Still haven’t had that liquor license go through. Just like when you asked yesterday,” Clem said, moving to the window to pass over her order. The chef gave Tesni a similarly unsympathetic look as he slid her ticket into place at the top of the pass through.

It was somehow more awkward than yesterday, when Clem had at least been willing to laugh at her expense, and the chef had waved at her. Guess four days in a row made her an untouchable lush. She hadn’t thought that would be a deal breaker for the island lifestyle.

She frowned and took out her phone to avoid eye contact. No new messages.

She scrolled through her contacts, found Mark, and sent, _does Alola do IV drips for hungover rich ppl?_

She fidgeted as she waited for a response, consoling herself that she didn’t really even know what time it was in Johto. Her phone buzzed just as Clem was setting a glass of water and a soda down in front of her

_I’m your attorney not your tour guide._

_Any good home remedies for sunburn? :P_

“Working on a tan?” Clem asked just as she sent the response.

“I’m hoping to culture some really interesting melanoma,” Tesni said. She glanced back down at her phone. She’d been left on read.

A plate of eggs and hash browns was slid in front of her, and she dug in cautiously. When her stomach didn’t immediately rebel, she tucked in with more gusto. As she took a break to suck down some sugary sweet caffeine, she realized Clem was watching her with crossed arms.

“So,” Clem said, “I heard you did a crime so hard they named it after you.”

Tesni choked on her eggs. “Where’d you hear that?”

“When I told you about the festival last night, maybe I should have specified that it was more a cultural family and friends festival, and less a show-up drunk music festival,” Clem said frostily.

“Okay, my pregaming doesn’t explain who—for the record it wasn’t a crime when I did it,” Tesni said hastily. “Seriously though, who—”

“Well after you spoke to Professor Kukui—”

“ _Kukui_ ,” Tesni repeated venomously, all at once remembering the shirtless guy in a fucking labcoat. Talk about wearing your entire identity. He’d recognized her name, she remembered, and he’d made a face. A grimace. “Fuckin gossip,” she muttered.

Welp, there went the plan to skate by the scientifically illiterate undetected. She’d only been banking on that to hold her over for the _rest of her life_. Her face had been kept out of the international news mostly, it was only _really_ a big deal in Johto—but with the criminalization of the sale of shiny pokémon slowly rolling out world wide, the incident was mentioned repeatedly. Between that and the thing with the doduo producing such hilarious headlines, it wasn’t exactly an unknown.

“So everyone’s heard huh?” She asked Clem. He shrugged and sat her bill down in front of her, and headed over to the opposite end of the bar. To avoid her.

“Fuck,” she muttered, and took another sip of soda.

  
  


  
  


Tesni had never expected to be lonely, she mused, laying back on the loveseat in front of the grand window of her suite, curtains still mostly drawn. She didn’t think she’d been lonely in her whole life.

In college she’d had friends, but she’d felt free to say yes or no to outings—perhaps ‘no’ more often than ‘yes.’ The security of having them, though, had given her the confidence to go where she wanted as she wanted. If she wanted to party, she partied; if she wanted to stay in, she stayed in.

The same confidence had kept her company in the months she’d spent lazily biking around Goldenrod City with no one but Steropé, her magmar Hotbod, and the daycare couple to talk to. She’d listened to audio books as she rode, Hotbod on the back of the bike with the eggs and Steropé scuttling along beside her, passing the long summer days outside. In the evenings, she’d kept busy compiling her data. If she felt like it had been too long without touch, she’d pick someone up. Touch was a real psychological need, she knew, but it wasn’t a difficult resource for a young woman to come by, if you weren’t particularly picky. It had been fine. Relaxing. It had the feel of an idle summer between one school year and the next, like the way she’d spent them as a girl, up to her own bullshit without any real urge for company.

She hadn’t even been lonely during the year the trial took, too anxious and panicked to consider that she only really spoke to Mark and her parents. But after, when she’d sent out “guess who isn’t a criminal!” texts to her college friends and colleagues, she had gotten crickets in response.

She had earnestly thought she would get to Alola and be able to lazily read on the beach, luxuriating in the sun and her ill-gotten gains. Get straight to an early retirement! Not even out of her twenties and financial security achieved! Which was great, because she was never getting hired in the sciences again.

Instead, she’d immediately felt restless and overwhelmed by the emptiness. Awkward in public spaces like she hadn’t been since high school. Feeling watched for the shame of eating alone, being alone. How dare a pretty young thing be without company, what was _wrong_ with her? When she’d had the respect of her peers, the confidence in her future career, it was easy for her to think— _nothing_. Nothing was wrong, she just liked being alone; not consulting about her plans with _anyone_ , whether something as small as where she was eating or as big as what country she was planning on setting her whimsical research project.

With a phonebook’s worth of unanswered texts and her parents’ awkward confusion palpable in every call? It felt less like a choice, to be alone.

So she’d headed out to raves, to concerts, to every open party and after party she could find, looking for contact. It wasn’t entirely unfamiliar, but apparently she couldn’t handle alcohol like she used to.

Frowning thoughtfully, she wiggled her hand down between herself and the loveseat for the pouch she kept her pokéballs in. She found it and twisted around to release Steropé and Hotbod.

Even in her overlarge hotel room, Steropé took up too much space. She chittered and edged closer to the loveseat, bringing her head down and passing her feelers over Tesni’s face. They tickled. Hotbod, on the other hand, looked morosely around the room, examining it.

None of her pokémon had really been out and about since she’d arrived in Alola. Except for Dipshit, but Tesni hadn’t had any say in that. Stupid bird just had a talent.

“Well fam,” Tesni said, “I mighta blown it already.” Steropé pushed awkwardly against Tesni’s torso, as much comfort as a giant centipede could offer. Tesni sighed and wiggled her head over to rest on Steropé’s shell. Hotbod grumbled in a way that didn’t sound entirely sympathetic, but Tesni was good at ignoring that.

Steropé chittered soothingly. Tesni stifled an awkward sob.

  
  


  
  


Several hours later, Tesni woke up to someone pounding on the door. Her eyes flew open, revealing Hotbod staring guiltily at her, caught in the act of reaching across her body for the pouch with her pokéballs.“What the fuck?” Tesni asked, sitting up and running a hand over her oddly sweaty forehead.

“Hello? Anyone home?” A man called, muffled through the door as he knocked again.

“Should I be home?” Tesni asked, looking at Hotbod. Hotbod shrugged. Steropé had curled into a giant poisonous donut on the floor to nap. She didn’t have the physical capacity to shrug, but she eyeballed Tesni in a shruglike way.

“I guess. Why not, right? Coming!” She maneuvered herself upright, stepping delicately around Steropé.

She wrenched open the door and found herself face to chest with—that guy. _Kukui_.

“Hey there cousin!”

Tesni shut the door.

“Hey, come now,” Kukui said, wedging an arm in before the door closed, “Shalour Tesni right? Can I call you Shalour?”

“I’d _really_ rather you didn’t,” Tesni said, “I’m kind of at a loss as to why you need to call me anything, actually. You could just leave instead.” She tested the door against his bicep. She’d have to pull it back to really get a good slam in and that would probably just give him an opening.

“I’ve got an offer to discuss with you,” Kukui said.

“What?” Tesni said, blinking. That was not what she was expecting.

“My assistant moved to Kanto,” Kukui said.

Tesni opened the door. “Okay I’m listening. How much?”

“Unpaid—hold on!” Kukui said, catching the door before it could be closed in his face again. “It comes with a free loft to stay in.”

“I’m not really at the point of my career where I’m looking for an unpaid internship,” Tesni said, frostily, “and I don’t need a place to stay.”

“So you still have a career huh?” Kukui asked.

“Ouch, okay,” Tesni said evenly. “So call me retired. Still nothing about this that’s appealing to me.”

“Could be a good opportunity to integrate into the island lifestyle.”

“Pass.”

“You don’t think it’d be good for you?” Kukui said.

Tesni frowned. “Is this some sort of fucked up charity project?”

“I took a look at some of your papers. I could use an assistant that knows their way around statistics.”

“That’s not a ‘no,’” Tesni said peevishly, “Could you leave? I can’t believe they even let you in without a shirt. Is no shirt no shoes no service not a thing here?”

“I _am_ wearing shoes,” Kukui smiled winningly as he produced a business card. “In case you change your mind.”

“Fat chance, thanks.”

“You should try sunscreen.”

“Fuck off.”

  
  


  
  


“I’m not pathetic, right?” Tesni asked Steropé later that evening. She had switched to the bedroom to watch cartoons from the overstuffed king-size bed.

“Like, it’s perfectly acceptable to have pokémon be your friends. It’s not _that_ pathetic to shove ‘only’ in front of there, right?”

Steropé chittered encouragingly.

“Yeah,” Tesni said, cheered. “What do I need human friends for? I have the biggest, baddest, beautifulest bug around to keep me company.” She scritched behind Steropé’s feeler.

Hotbod grumbled from beside her on the bed.

“Oh. And uh, you’re here too, Hotbod!”

Hotbod reached again for her pouch and Tesni slapped its hand down. “What is your deal?!”

Hotbod grumbled sadly. Tesni followed its gaze looked down to the other two pokéballs remaining in the bag. “Oh. You want to hang out with everybody huh?” She sighed, and opened the other two balls. “I mean I guess as long as we’re having a pity party.”

Dipshit emerged screaming, and turned immediately on the tiny, blue-eyed, shiny venonat that appeared from the other pokéball.

“ _Arceus_ , Dipshit, stop screaming. I’m pretty sure Crime Baby hears with his whole body. Isn’t that a thing with bugs?” She looked to Steropé for answers, but Steropé was apparently not up her on bug anatomy, because she didn’t respond.

“Anyways, guys, listen up,” Tesni said, looking back to her cartoons, “I think I need to chill on the drinking for a bit, so I’m taking suggestions on what I should do, socially. And I guess you all probably need some air, so I’m thinking… what, maybe a hike? You guys like that? Maybe we can go out to, I dunno, the jungle? There’s a jungle I think. Hike around? I’d say the beach but I think Steropé might be a little out of place and obviously Crime Baby can’t be seen so— _oH my god!_ ”

Abruptly, Dipshit pecked Crime Baby directly in the eye, there was a trilling wail, and Hotbod launched itself off the bed in a whirl of fire to punch Dipshit into an ashy smear on the floor.

“What is WRONG with you?” Tesni shrieked, recalling Hotbod and Dipshit to their pokéballs and rolling off the bed with the covers to try and smother the burning carpet. “Fuck!” She peeled back the comforter to check if the carpet had stopped burning. It had.

“What the fuck?” She yelled at Hotbod’s pokéball. She whirled on Steropé and Crime Baby. “What the _fuck?_ ” she asked plaintively. Crime Baby made a sad noise. Tesni patted gently around his eye.

“Okay team, new plan, we’re going on a late night pokécenter run. Apparently. _Shit_.”

  
  


  
  


“Thank you for waiting! We've restored your pokémon to full health,” the nurse said peppily, setting a tray with Tesni’s pokéballs back down in front of her.

“Cool, thanks, but uh, look. What the fuck is wrong with this one?” Tesni asked, tapping Hotbod’s pokéball.

“I’m sorry?” the nurse asked.

“It’s been all weird and mopey, and it tried to murder my dipshit doduo.” Tesni said.

“Oh. Hm,” the nurse tapped at her screen. “Well, there’s nothing physically wrong with him… aside from his diet. All your pokémon seem like they could use a more varied—”

“I think that’s a separate problem,” Tesni said, embarrassed.

The nurse shrugged.

“So no answers for me huh? I should just live with the fact that my magmar might try and burn my place to the ground at any time?” Tesni asked.

“We do sell burn heals at the counter to your right,” the nurse said pleasantly.

Tesni sighed gustily. “Great. Fucking thanks.” It wasn’t a bad idea, she supposed.

She wandered over to the pokémart in the corner. “I’m gonna need some burn heals,” she told the guy at the counter.

“I’m sure you will,” the guy at the counter said. Tesni frowned. “How many will you be needing ma’am?”

“I guess like ten?” As the guy set them on the counter in front of her she picked up one of the tubes to read the packaging. “Think these work on sunburns?”

“Uh. They’re for pokémon,” the guy said.

“I _know_. But do you think they would also work for me? On a sunburn.” Tesni gestured to her entire face and chest.

“Um?” The guy looked across the way to the nurse’s station.

“Burn heals are not approved for human use,” the nurse said firmly.

“I didn’t ask—okay you guys are useless.” She looked over the ingredients again. Probably wouldn’t give her cancer immediately. She swept the pile of tubes into her purse. “Here,” she said and slapped her payment down on the counter, retreating to a table by the front window.

She opened up the tube and began rubbing the paste into the worst of the burn on her shoulders. She waited a few minutes, tooling around on her phone, and when her skin didn’t burst into hives, cancerous growths, etc—actually, it was feeling a lot better—she went ahead and rubbed it onto her face. It had a cool, tingly feeling, like menthol.

“Perfect,” Tesni muttered happily. “Something’s going right for a change.” Maybe she’d even get a coffee.

Deciding that was a good idea, she headed over to that corner of the pokémon center. It was so much more convenient to have everything in one building, like they did in Alola. Way more so than what she was used to in Unova and Kanto.

She revised her opinion when she realized they didn’t actually sell coffee. As she was sipping cautiously at her pinap juice, a man walked in.

  
  


  
  


_She was ten. She’d insisted it had to be a scolipede. Her father had hemmed and hawed, but eventually, he’d taken her out with his herdier—he and the herdier had had the same mustache. It hadn’t been far, just to the forests outside their home city of Nacrene._

_He’d weakened the venipede, handed her the ultra ball and that had been it. It was her and Steropé for life._

_Her father had been baffled, but supportive, as he so often was. He didn’t understand why it had to be a scolipede. With her ten-year-old vocabulary, she couldn’t really explain it._

_But the first time she’d seen a scolipede through the trees, eight feet of majesty and chitin…_

_She’d thought,_ my god.

It’s so big.

I have to ride it.

  
  


  
  


Anyways, her thought process was almost identical _right now._

He was so tall it was difficult to judge just _how_ —certainly over six feet, and probably nearer to seven. He had a white puff of hair over a black undercut, separated by massive gold framed sunglasses, and baggy, black and white clothes that didn’t hide the strength of his shoulders.

 _I would hang off him like a komala,_ Tesni thought. She took a gulp of her juice as he sauntered up to the nurse.

“Hello, and welcome to the Pokémon Center,” the nurse said. Her tone was frosty and insincere. Tesni felt sorry for the guy; she’d apparently already really irritated the nurse.

The nurse accepted the man’s pokémon, perhaps a little roughly. She slammed the tray into the healing machine, and was tapping her foot impatiently as she waited. The man awkwardly shifted his weight from leg to leg. Tesni kept a careful eye on this, in case his movements revealed more of his figure through his baggy pants.

The tray clattered as the nurse set it back down in front of him.

 _Wow,_ thought Tesni, _I must have really pissed her off with that burn heal shit._

“Thanks,” the man spat, and headed out the door.

Abandoning her pinap juice (it was too sweet anyways), Tesni grabbed her bag and decided to slip out after him. Walking at a slightly-faster-than-entirely-casual pace, she made it out the doors just in time to see him turning around the corner behind the pokémon center. She heard the click of a pokéball opening.

Tesni peered curiously around the corner to see that the man was looking over a hunched over, humanoid bug pokémon as tall or taller than he was, gently examining the maxillary palps around the bug’s mouth.

“That’s a big bug,” Tesni blurted out.

The man looked back at her, dark expression breaking a little bit in surprise. “Fuckin, _yeah_ ,” he said.

They stared at each other for a long moment.

“You have anything else that’s big?” Tesni asked, smiling flirtatiously. It was too bad she’d stuck with her hangover-recovery outfit instead of something more tits-out.

The man snorted and smiled. “I’m big all over, baby.”

“That’s hot,” said Tesni dumbly.

He closed the distance to her personal space, close enough that he was looking down on her. “You really think you’re bad enough to roll with big bad Guzma, girly?”

_Oh._

His whole thug-look should have been a tip-off, she thought. He was about the whole international not-quite-criminal thing. Wanted to up his non-existent street cred. It was kind of frustrating—was she not attractive enough on her own non-criminal merits?

But, well. She wasn’t above using that, if it was a feature and not a bug for him. Or, it seemed like he liked bugs, anyways.

“Oh, I’m bad,” Tesni said, “you might not have heard—I did a crime so hard they named it after me.”

“So you like hard crime huh?” Guzma asked, laughing.

“Well you look like the hardest guy around,” Tesni said, “does that make walking difficult?” _Oof, whoops. That was maybe too direct._

The giant bug pokémon behind him rumbled. Awkwardly.

Guzma blushed, and recalled his pokémon. “Well, if it’s a short walk to your place, that won’t be a problem.”

“ _Yeah_ ,” Tesni breathed.

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unovans curse like New Yorkers and you can't stop me. 
> 
> Thanks for reading! I'm planning to have chapter 2 up in an hour or two, so uh, stay tuned if you're into a flat 5000 words of porn and people making fun of each other.


	2. Streetcred

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's like, 5000 words of smut.

Tesni led the way into the Hano Grand Hotel, up the beach and past the pools lining the entry terrace. In the night, the water of the fountains could be heard but not seen aside from the glint of the lights on the bridges. Distantly, she could hear crowds of other guests laughing on one of the terraces with a bar and restaurant, but the entry was deserted.

She and Guzma entered the vast lobby, and the lone receptionist on duty glanced up, then went slack jawed and goggle-eyed. Tesni frowned — seriously? Guzma might be tall, but as pieces of ass went, Tesni thought they were pretty much in the same league. She glanced back at Guzma, who was following uncomfortably close behind her. His eyes were sliding from corner to corner of the room, a small frown on his face.

This one night stand was _cripplingly_ sober. Had she gone through all the alcohol in the mini fridge in her room? It might be necessary. She’d never picked someone up at a pokémon center before, and this was a good argument for not doing it again.

“Come on, keep up!” she said, picking up the pace a little, to hustle them through the lobby. The receptionist looked like he was just getting his act together to say something, and they absolutely did not need that. She reached back to snag Guzma’s wrist and pulled him along to the back of the cavernous room, where the elevators were.

She hit the button to call an elevator. And they waited.

The noise of the oversized fountains felt oppressive.

“So. This place is… fancy,” Guzma said.

“What, did crime not pay for you? Because it super paid for me,” Tesni said. Guzma snorted. “If you’d rather we go back to your place,” Tesni began, but Guzma put up his hands in surrender, smiling.

“No, no, if you’re gonna treat ya boi, I ain’t gonna argue.”

The elevator arrived then, and as she walked past she casually ran her hand up the back of Guzma’s thigh, finding his ass for a quick squeeze in the drapery of his sweatpants. It was practically rib-height on her.

She hit the button for her floor, and Guzma crowded her into the corner of the elevator. “You like being manhandled?” He asked, running a hand up her side.

“If you think you’re the man to handle me, _def_ ,” Tesni said, and then she was off the floor, up against the wall, his hands at her waist and her ass on the useless thin handrail every elevator had — and it was so, _so_ cold on her exposed cheeks as her romper rode up. Guzma pressed in between her legs, his waist skinnier than she’d thought with all the heavy fabric in the way.

She wrapped her legs around him, drawing his warmth in, and his mouth went to her neck, drawing his lips dryly up her jugular. She hummed happily and brought one hand up to his neck and curled the other in his hair. He breathed hotly in her ear as she carefully flexed her fingers, tugging slowly to exert a constant pressure in his hair.

“What do I call you?” Guzma asked into her ear.

“Tes works.”

The elevator dinged and Guzma backed off, hands lingering at her waist. She gently released his hair, and took one of his hands so he could help her off the rail.

She led him down the hall, and fumbled to get her keycard out of her bag, one hand clamped around his. “I like being manhandled,” she repeated, “but if you slap me like this is a porno you’re out on your ass.”

“Pfft,” Guzma said, “Get the door open so I can respect the shit out of you.”

The key card registered with a beep, the door opened, and Tesni remembered all at once that she had just barely extinguished the carpet before legging it out of her suite. The smell of burnt plastic was sharp and heavy, and she could hear her cartoons still playing in the bedroom.

“Shit, hold on,” she said, breaking away from Guzma. His expression was quizzical but not disgusted, mouth quirked to the side and nose scrunched up a little. She’d take it.

She quickly turned on the fans in all the rooms, just barely leaning in to the bathroom and bedroom to hit the switches, before shutting the doors. She checked the minibar under the desk in the living room, and to her relief it still had some liquor.

She turned around to see Guzma staring at her, leaned against the door.

“Can I get you a drink?” she asked, flustered.

“Sure. The fuck happened here?” Guzma asked. He walked up behind her, a little too close for comfort.

She must have imagined that she could feel his heat, contrasting with the chill of the mini fridge.

“Accident with a magmar,” Tesni said shortly, “Vodka?”

“Okay,” Guzma said, smirking like he was laughing at her. Rude.

Tesni grabbed a few tiny bottles of vodka out of the fridge and gestured with them for Guzma to follow her over to the loveseat by the window.

He sat next to her, collapsing gracelessly and manspreading to take up well more than half, their knees knocking together. He slung an arm along the back, brushing against Tesni’s neck and shoulders. She unscrewed one of the little bottles, and passed Guzma the rest.

He raised an eyebrow at her as she downed the little bottle in one go. “Nervous?” he asked teasingly.

“Only about what the hotel’s gonna charge me for the carpet,” Tesni said, rolling her eyes.

“I’ve done worse,” Guzma said, “they just patch it, don’t let ‘em tell you they’re replacing the whole fuckin’ thing.”

Tesni laughed, “Thanks for the advice. If you get your pants off I can thank you more thoroughly.”

“I’m not saying no to that,” Guzma laughed, setting the vodka bottles to the side. Tesni slipped to the floor as he lifted himself to roll his sweats down under his ass. He was freeballing it, apparently, so she was immediately face to face with his dick. He was only half hard and, surprisingly, it seemed like he was proportional to his height. _Hooo, okay._

She grinned up at him and leaned into the cloth of the sweatpants hanging between his knees, resting her arms over top of his thighs to support herself as she leaned in to lick a line up his inner thigh. Her hair brushed over his dick, and he twitched. She backed off and firmly ran her hands up his thighs, digging into the muscle, sweeping her thumbs up along the edges of his pubic hair and gently scraping her nails along his soft abs, under his shirt.

She brought her head down and exhaled on his dick, watching curiously as he slowly filled out. With the back of her hand, she brushed up the length of it, and then turned her hand around to palm over the head. He breathed heavily, sinking further into the love seat.

Languidly, she licked a stripe up the side, keeping her palm massaging where it was. She moved down to mouth at his balls. He shifted restlessly, a knee knocking her arm out of place.

“Come on,” he muttered.

“Don’t rush me,” Tesni said, but she obligingly moved her mouth to the head of his dick, and took him in just until the head hit her palate. She worked the muscles of her tongue and cheeks around it. She heard him groan, and she saw his hands twitch towards her head, hesitating.

Pulling back, she said, “You can pull my hair, but if you push me down I _will_ throw up on you.”

“Seems to me like this is more fun for everyone if you’re in charge,” he said, gently placing his hands in her hair.

“You flatterer,” Tesni said, pleased, and dived back in. She laved with her tongue as she worked her mouth down, going a little further this time. One hand sliding up and down his shaft, she pressed beneath his balls with the other.

“Shit, _Tes_ ,” he said, and she smiled around his dick, eyes watering a little as she focused in on his rough breathing, his hands flexing against her scalp, the feel of his velvety cock on her tongue. She groaned and he answered back in kind. Encouraged by his noise, she kept at it, sliding her hand warmly, working him down her throat until she couldn’t stand it.

She increased the tempo of her hand, sucked a little harder, swallowing to let him feel the muscles of her throat. He exhaled, a deep hissing noise.

“Fuck, fuck, hold on, get up here,” Guzma said urgently.

“What?” Tesni asked, but Guzma just slid his hands under her arms and dragged her up into his lap. “ _Shit_ ,” she said, startled, his hands pinching a little, but she settled down with knees to either side of his legs, and her still-clothed crotch right at his dick. She ground down a little, experimentally, and he groaned.

“Shit, shit, careful,” he said, and ran a hand up her thigh, under the ruffles of her romper. His fingers skimmed the edge of her panties, looping in, knuckles brushing against her slit, and pulling at her panties — only to catch as he caught the crotch of her romper as well. He frowned. “Are you wearing shorts?” he asked, incredulous.

“It’s a romper,” Tesni said.

“Thought it was a skirt,” he said, “was gonna fuck you in it.”

“Well I mean I _have_ skirts,” Tesni said, “also condoms.”

Guzma groaned throatily as she ground down on him again, trapping his hand against his own dick. “Those condoms nearby? Skirt’s negotiable.” He twisted his hand around to palm her slit, running his middle finger along it and pressing at her clit with his thumb. “Shit, you’re so wet, babe, think I could just push your panties to the side and fuck you right like this.”

“The romper fabric isn’t that flexible, you’d just hurt your dick,” Tesni said, laughing.

Guzma stopped moving, and looked at her for a moment. “You’re kind of a killjoy, anyone ever tell you that? Fuckin’ bossy too.”

“Sorry, is that not working for you?” Tesni said, frowning.

“Just let me fucking talk dirty. Shit, we’ll get naked and grab condoms in a sec,” Guzma said, “relax babe, let ya boy handle this.”

Tesni stifled the urge to object to being called ‘babe’ as Guzma began pressing lazy circles around her clit again. His middle finger dipped inside, and instead she said, “ _oh_.”

“ _Oh_ ,” Guzma repeated, a little mocking, “Just let me at it baby, you won’t have anything to complain about.”

Tesni had some doubts. Complaining was a real skill area for her. But Guzma crooked his finger inside her, rubbing at her inner walls and pressing in at her clit simultaneously. She groaned and felt his dick pulse against her thigh in response, and oh, _oh_ that was one hell of a feedback loop.

She braced herself against his shoulders, breathing hard and tensing up with embarrassed pleasure. When she opened her eyes Guzma was watching her face closely, smirking. “You see?” He said, working another finger in, thrusting. His other hand ran up her spine to the back of her neck and pulling her head in closer. She went easily with the motion, but rather than let him pull her into a kiss, she ducked her face down into his neck. He huffed at her, amused? Frustrated? But he worked his fingers faster and harder, and when she next opened her mouth to whimper, she turned it into a biting kiss at his pulse.

He groaned, his throat rumbling under her lips and rolled his hips to rub his dick against her thigh.

“Oh, _oh_ ,” Tesni said, heat building up in her as he worked his fingers and thumbs more roughly, his coordination slipping but his thumb unerringly at her clit.

“Say my name,” he said.

“What?” Tesni asked into his neck, disoriented.

“Say my name,” he said more urgently, pulling her back by her hair to look at her face.

“Guz— _Guzma_ ,” she gasped, and Guzma was rolling to his feet, bringing her with him, and setting her back down on the loveseat, slipping to the floor in between her knees and burying his face alongside his hand, licking at her around his fingers and the fabric of her panties and her romper. The sight of him, sunglasses askew under the ruffles of her outfit, his massive frame on the floor between her legs—she came, pulsing and gushing around his fingers.

He kept his fingers thrusting through her orgasm, only slowing down with her breathing.

“Holy shit,” she said, as Guzma grinned up at her, mouth slick.

“Told ya, babe,” Guzma said, licking his lips.

_He really did_ , thought Tesni, kind of annoyed. She’d wasted so much of college dating skinny nerds thinking they would somehow be more respectful, better listeners, better in bed, when apparently she should have just gone ahead and found some massive hot bruiser. This was just unfair.

“You need to wrap your dick and get inside me,” Tesni said bluntly.

Guzma laughed. “Don’t rush me,” he said mockingly, “where your raincoats at?”

“Bedroom,” Tesni said, “hopefully it stinks less now.”

“Let’s go then,” Guzma said, climbing to his feet. Tesni grabbed a fistful of his jacket to pull herself up after him, feeling a little unsteady. Guzma snagged her wrist, pulling her flush against him to feel his hard cock pressed to her stomach. He was probably smearing precum on her romper. “Can’t walk already?”

“Maybe you should just carry me,” Tesni said, and she had barely finished her sentence before she was flush up against him, chest to chest, his dick rubbing at her now slick thighs. Man, he _could_ just slip right in now. Condom, _condom_ , she reminded herself firmly, winding her hands behind his neck. He took a step and her empty vodka bottle crunched under his shoe.

“Whoops,” he said, barely sparing a glance for it as he made his way to the bedroom door.

“I probably need to switch rooms anyways. I’ll tip the maid.”

She wound her legs around him to secure herself, letting him have a free hand, taking the opportunity to grind herself up against him while he opened the door to the bedroom. The fan was still going strong and the scent of burnt acrylic had mostly faded, but the TV was still playing, some cartoon about baby pokémon.

“We fuckin to _Pancham Pals?_ ” he asked, dumping her on the bed and following her down to box her in with is body.

“If that’s what _you_ want to do,” Tesni said, finally kicking off her sandals behind his back, “I think the sound effects would make things a little weird.” Her sandals off, she pushed at his sweats with her feet, hands running up insistently under his shirt, “remotes on the side table, right by the condoms. You should be naked.”

“Are you the boss of me now?” Guzma asked, but obligingly stood up to step out of his pants and shed his shirt, setting his sunglasses on the tv cabinet.

“I thought we agreed that would be more fun,” Tesni said, sitting up to run her hands up his chest. He wasn’t shredded, but she could feel solid muscle under his skin.

“Changed my mind,” Guzma said, “Why aren’t _you_ naked?” He pulled at the fabric at her side

Tesni slipped the straps of her romper and her bra off her shoulders, rolling it down and leaning back to lift her hips while guzma pulled it and her panties down her legs in one go, leaving her to contend with her bra. She spun it just enough to get the clasp and hucked it into the corner as Guzma leaned back in, just barely testing his weight on her, dick _just_ teasing her slit. Her breath hitched and she felt him twitch.

His face hovered over hers, watching her for a reaction as he ran a big hand up her side to play with one breast. She kept her eyes on his, sweeping her hands up his broad back until she encountered scar tissue.

She tried to school her expression, but it was chunky, smooth, fat strips up near his shoulder, she wasn’t sure what it was from, but it felt vicious. Her eyes flickered over and saw that what she was feeling wasn't the only scarring he had. He also had a dense mass of thin, red, curling, ropelike scars, much fresher than the ones under her fingers, spilling over his shoulders and arms.

He shrugged, moving her hand lower on his back and said lowly, “don’t ask.”

“Wasn’t going to,” Tesni said, “I’ve already made up a really cool story for you, and I’d rather you not ruin it.”

“Tch,” Guzma said, “seriously?”

“I’m thinking you fought a sharpedo barehanded, _mano a mano_ , while out surfing. Probably saved a skitty or something,” Tesni said, running her fingers up and down his spine.

“I don’t even surf,” Guzma said.

“I just said don’t ruin it!”

The TV produced an obnoxious _boioioioiiing_ , startling Tesni into a laugh.

“Seriously, wrap it and turn that off.”

Guzma grumbled, pulling off her again and heading around the bed, pausing when he saw the burnt patch of carpet and ashy comforter. He leaned over it to grab the remote and chucked it at Tesni, “Turn it off yourself,” he said.

He grabbed the box of condoms, which was, embarrassingly, just sitting out. He settled back at the foot of the bed to wrap up and Tesni took the opportunity with the remote to change the station to one of those dark-screened, music-only channels she’d thought were pointless before she’d started living out of hotels.

“Objections to the channel?” She asked as Guzma turned to look at her

“‘Sfine,” he said, reaching out to grab her ankles.

“You’re fine,” Tesni said, struck by the vision of him nude and maneuvering her bare legs. He snorted and pulled her bodily to the edge of the bed. A thrill ran through her.

“I’m gonna destroy that pussy,” Guzma said, leering down at her from between her spread legs.

Tesni laughed in incredulous surprise, “This from the guy who said he was going to respect the shit out of me?”

“I’m going to respectfully destroy that pussy.”

“Well, shit, get on it then,” she said, drawing her knees up to reel him in by his grasp on her ankles. She extended a hand down her body to grab at his dick, where it was hovering down by her crotch. Gratifyingly, he was still hard, despite all the laughing at him she had just done. A lot of people had a problem with that.

She smiled, stroking him through the condom, ignoring both the awkwardness of the angle at the end of her reach, and the greasy feel of the cheap lube the condom came packaged in. He twitched forward, and she held him steady to press into her, her other hand spreading her lips. He moved slowly, at first. She was still wet, but it had been a hot minute since she came, and despite the size of his hands, two fingers were not comparable to his dick.

Fully seated, he straightened out her legs and pressed them back with his whole torso, stretching her just until she resisted. She brought her hands back, sliding up his stomach and to her own legs, where Guzma ran his hands down until they met hers, insistently pressing to be sure she kept a grip on her thighs when he let go, relaxing her knees over his shoulder, still trapping her bent in half with his weight. He reached a hand around to trail across her chest, tweaking a nipple mischievously. Tesni squirmed, frowning.

“So?” she asked, “you planning to get moving or what?”

“I didn’t want to rush you,” Guzma said.

“Oh my _god_ ,” Tesni said, and rolled her hips clumsily, without any real leverage. Guzma laughed at her and stood up straight. The first snap of his hips surprised her, despite her _literally waiting for it,_ a hot, rough slide that knocked the breath out of her. He fell into a rhythm quickly, and, for a few moments, all Tesni could do was be there.

She let go of her legs to brace herself on the bed and meet his thrusts, but she couldn’t quite match his tempo.

“Put your hands back where they were,” he said, voice strained, “I’m handling this.”

“And _I’m_ — _ah_ —bossy?” Tesni said, but obliged.

“I’m the boss, not bossy,” Guzma said.

“Sexist,” Tesni said.

“Just facts babe,” he said, pressing down with his torso between her legs to kiss her messily on the lips. Tesni blinked, surprised, and opened her mouth to mention— _not really a thing she did during one night stands_ —but Guzma pressed in deeper, his tongue passing over that one spot behind her teeth that made every muscle in her body twitch, including the ones around his dick. She felt him grin into the kiss.

He pulled back, one big hand keeping her steady at her hip as he set a harder pace, the other going to rub at her clit with the heel of palm. “Shit— _Guzma_ ,” she said, the pressure on her clit between his palm and his dick burning her up. He switched tactics, rubbed his thumb along where her lips met his dick, gathering up cheap lube and her own slick, and used that to ease the friction as he played with her clit.

Her toes were curling and her legs shaking and—she was _outraged_ that he was going to get her off _twice_ before he came _once_. As much as she appreciated and identified with the service-top mentality, she could recognize him getting off on it as a power play. _He’s coming with me_ , she determined.

“Guzma— _Guzma_ ,” she moaned, getting a little more theatrical than was really natural for her, and she felt him twitch inside her. She chased that feeling, clamping down as much as she could. She let her legs go, wrapping them around his waist before he could tell her off, and urging him into her with her feet at the small of his back.

He cursed, startled and shaking, rhythm stuttering. “Thought I—told you— _shit_.”

“Not having fun?” Tesni asked, grabbing his arm to leverage herself upright against him, snapping her hips as viciously as she could into his rhythm, clawing her way up him like a komala to grab at his hair and pull him down into a bruising kiss. He made a wounded noise that went straight to her core, and wrapped his arms around her. His hips moved faster, faltering, and then all at once he was cumming. He tightened with his whole body, arms catching her ribs so she couldn’t breath, dick pulsing so she could feel it even through the condom, and that pulled her over the edge too.

He held her as she quaked through it, gently set her back down on the bed—and then collapsed in a sweaty mess on top of her, his face buried in her neck.

They breathed in tandem, worked over and exhausted.

Tesni came back to earth slowly—somehow, the remote was digging into her back. She fished it out, a feat with Guzma’s weight on top of her, and turned off the mood music. She was thirsty, she thought, maybe a little dehydrated.

Shit, she hadn’t really eaten since breakfast either. She considered for a moment, and then tapped Guzma on his clammy side.

He grunted in response.

“You want room service?” She asked.

  
  


  
  


They ate half naked with the coffee table pulled up to the loveseat, a towel laid over the broken glass. Guzma had hesitated when she’d told him to order whatever he wanted, until she’d threatened him with a whole-ass corphish tail and steak. He’d eventually ordered fried shrimp, refusing to be bullied into ordering the larger coconut-fried clauncher platter. Tesni had ordered a corphish chowder, a pitcher of sangria, and, at Guzma’s oddly shy suggestion, some kind of hot chocolate.

Conversation petered out. After a prolonged silence which Tesni pretended to ignore, Guzma finally said, “How long you been in Alola?”

“About a week,” Tesni said, “is it obvious?”

“Hotel room and a sunburn, looks like a tourist to me,” Guzma said, shoveling shrimp into his mouth, plate held up next to his face.

“Haven’t really looked for a place yet, long term,” Tesni said.

“You’re sticking around, huh?”

“That was the plan. Gonna have to figure out all this sun though.”

“Yeah, your back’s lookin pretty gnarly,” Guzma said, lifting the strap of her bra with one finger, “how’d you burn that and not your face? No one to do your back?”

“Oh no, I burnt my face too,” Tesni said, “but I slapped some burn heal on it. Since you’re around, maybe you could help me rub _that_ on my back.”

“Burn heal? Like for pokémon? Does that work?”

“Seems to so far, I was like one step from peeling all over this morning.”

“Shit, I coulda been using that this whole time?”

“You get burned often? Target of a lot of diss tracks?” Tesni asked.

Guzma laughed, “Like you wouldn’t believe, babe.”

Tesni rolled her eyes. It probably wasn’t worth objecting to ‘babe’ at this point.

“‘Aight, I’m done,” Guzma said, dropping his plate back to the table, “let’s play nurse.”

“As long as you’re the nurse,” Tesni said.

  
  


  
  


7AM, Tesni woke up, dehydrated and overheated. The dehydrated she was used to, the overheated was new. Disoriented, she eyeballed around the dark bedroom, eventually realizing the source of the heat was Guzma, massive and entirely sacked out beside her.

She sat up and groaned, hand to her head. She headed into the kitchenette for water, then stood in the doorway of the bedroom, considering Guzma in the gloom. It had been an unexpectedly good night. Guzma was good humored and bossy and fun.

She’d almost forgotten he was here to up his street cred. Kind of a bummer.

Despite the whole wannabe-thug thing, he seemed incredibly genuine, and Tesni… wasn’t sure she deserved that.

Of course, she wasn’t sure she was quite on the level with a guy who called her ‘baby’ and ‘babe’ and didn’t seem to have any sort of education, either. Which was significantly more judgemental, but—where would someone like Guzma have fit into old Tesni’s life, when she was in college, or the field? He wouldn’t have. There was probably room for thug arm-candy _now_ , but, did she _want_ there to be?

As much fun as lazing around in hotel rooms and ordering room service was, maybe retirement didn’t suit her. She wanted to be someone with a future again. Without it, she was just kind of an asshole. A lazy, sunburnt, bitch that couldn’t moderate her drinking because she had no obligations or responsibilities.

She had money now—she could invent some for herself, fund her own projects. If she could get people to read papers with her name on them, anyways. Besides, it had obviously turned out that she didn’t have the necessary ethical fiber to self-direct. Her fuck-up of a scheme in Johto might have only been a single data point, but it was a pretty damning one.

The solution to both those problems was to get someone to mentor her. Someone to put their names first on the papers, with an unimpeachable ethical record. Someone to gently remind her that releasing hundreds of pokémon into the wild after she was done with them might have unintended ecological and economical consequences.

Unfortunately, she already had an offer that fit that criteria.

She sighed, shutting the door to the bedroom. Kukui’s business card was in the wastebasket in the bathroom, right where she’d ditched it. She fished it out, face scrunched up in distaste despite the trash only holding floss and the plastic casings for the hotel soaps. She washed her hands anyways, and copied the info over to her phone. Kukui was on a different island.

There was a ferry over to Melemele at noon.

She stopped, looking at herself in the bathroom mirror, lit only by dim, reflected light coming in from the cracked curtains in the living room.

She booked the tickets from her phone.

  
  


  
  


Guzma was a late riser. Which, with how late they had been up was probably reasonable, but… He didn’t wake as Tesni puttered around the suite, shoving her stray clothes and few personal effects back into her suitcase, and she had stopped being quiet about it at ten. She’d had leftover chowder for breakfast and left the bedroom door open, to see if the smell of food or the clatter of dishes would wake him. Nope. The door to the suite slamming as she came and went from explaining that she’d be checking out late to the front desk hadn’t woken him either.

She hadn’t really tried _specifically_ to wake him though. As 11:30 rolled around, she finally decided to give it a go.

“Hey, Guzma,” she said, standing over him at the side of the bed. She tapped his shoulder lightly.

He shifted and made an aggravated noise.

“I’m checking out,” Tesni said.

“What?” Guzma asked, voice rough and low from sleep.

“You can keep sleeping. I told the desk I’d be late, so you’ve got until like, three.”

“Uh, hold on,” Guzma said, sitting up, blinking slowly.

“No time! Sorry, go back to bed. Just wanted to say thanks for a good time!”

Obligations? Met. Bare minimum emotional labor? Check.

She left a hundred for the maid on the coffee table and headed out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!


	3. Mixed Nuts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Guzma has rivals, roommates, and problems. 
> 
> Tesni gets settled in on Melemele.

The sun was shining and the endless blue of the ocean stretched out all around, interrupted only by the white wake of the ferry between Akala and Melemele. It was little more than an oversized yacht, which made for a bumpy ride, but the spray off the ocean was rejuvenating, the smell of the salt water invigorating, the gulls and the sea life _inspiring_.

And none of it even touched the foul mood Guzma was in.

He stared at the afternoon sun glinting off the waves, brooding darkly.

He’d almost salvaged something off this trip off Melemele, he thought bitterly. He had desperately needed to blow off some steam, but somehow he was coming back just as frustrated as he’d left.

It didn’t help that the four o’clock ferry had the _friggin’ fourteen year old champion of Alola on it_.

Luna stared at him with the same vapid, pleasant expression she _always_ did, standing next to him at the railing. She was a fashion disaster, having habitually adopted the colorful, floral-printed shirts the old Alolan men wore, in a size too large for her. White shorts, white shoes, and an oversized blue ribbon in her braided light brown hair, topped off a look that was emblematic of everything Guzma hated about the islands.

And she had those creepy yellow eyes fixed right on him.

...He was pretty certain they were contacts.

“Hello Mr. Guzma,” she said.

“You’ve got some nerve just moseying on up to me, kid!” Guzma barked, “You wanna get beat?”

“Sure Mr. Guzma, does that mean you want another battle?” she asked. Pleasantly.

Guzma snorted. “I’m not crazy enough to come back for seconds just yet.” Despite healing up at the pokémon center he was pretty sure BT, his Golisopod, was still recovering from the curbstomp at the Battle Royal Dome yesterday. He’d been doing pretty good until Luna showed up — kicking some ass, taking some names, getting some cash... Feeling briefly better about himself.

Then _boom_. Total annihilation.

“You know what?” Guzma said, “It ain’t cool dragging a legendary pokémon into competitive battles. That ain’t right.”

“Lillie entrusted Nebby to me to show him the life that only a high level trainer could,” Luna said serenely, “ _It is only right to wet the teeth of the sun god with the blood of sacrifice.”_

_“What?”_

Luna looked at him placidly, like that shit hadn’t just come out of her mouth. Guzma glanced around, and none of the tourists taking pictures off the side of the boat had even acknowledged it.

“You’re wild, kid,” Guzma said, rearranging his grip on the railing a few inches further away from her.

“If you say so, Mr. Guzma. It seems your training with Hala is going well.”

“You think?” Guzma asked, scratching at the back of his head, pleased despite himself.

“Yes, you’re losing much more gracefully.”

“Why the hell are you even on this boat!?” Guzma snapped.

“I live on Melemele too, Mr. Guzma,” Luna said.

“Sure, but don’t you have a _ff_ —Charizard to do flips on or something?! You never take the ferry!”

Luna shrugged, still smiling that same infuriating smile at him.

“What the hell did you even get up to last night? You’re a kid! Are you even old enough to get a hotel room? You just wander around the volcano all night?” Guzma had suspicions that Luna didn’t sleep, giving her eight more hours in a day to train her pokémon than every other regular jackoff. It was the best explanation he’d come up with.

“Mostly the jungle,” Luna said.

“Ugh, I’m done with you,” Guzma said, “get out of my face.”

“Okay. See you at Hala’s, Mr. Guzma.”

She walked off, heading to the other end of the boat.

It was a small boat, hard to avoid people, but it was also a short ride, they could probably manage.

“Hello Mr. Guzma,” Luna said, from his other side.

“I _just_ told you to get lost, kid!” Guzma said, “ _What?_ ”

Luna shrugged. “Just seeing if you had anything else to say.”

“Okay, _I’m_ going to walk away this time,” Guzma said, and turned to do just that.

  


  


“Your library doesn’t have any sort of organizational system? How do you find anything?” Tesni asked in horror, looking around Kukui’s dark basement.

It was spacious, with a dozen bookshelves at one end, a large desk with a widescreen monitor PC on it, and still-packed cardboard boxes scattered around. Kukui apparently prefered to keep the overhead lights down and work in the glow of a large, vertical aquarium containing several luvdisc. It looked like a recipe for eye strain to Tesni.

“Ah, I just think about where I last had it,” Kukui laughed, “It’s worked out for me so far!”

“That’s not going to work for me,” Tesni said, “that’s ludicrous. I’m fixing this.” She was already dreading it. She could tell it would be a fight every step of the way to both implement a system and then make the man keep to it.

“If you say so, cousin — but what I brought you down here for is the PC. You said you wanted to see the raw data!”

“Yes — I read some of your papers on the ferry, but nothing that really went into detail,” Tesni said.

“Okay, well have at it, cuz! It’s the ‘vids’ file on the desktop. I’m going to get going — feel free to get settled in in the loft! I’m glad you reconsidered.”

Kukui waved brightly at her, and headed up the stairs.

“ _‘Vids’ file?_ ” Tesni asked the basement, hoping it wasn’t going to be as bad as it sounded.

She wandered back to the stairs to find the dimmer switch for the overhead lights, turning them up all the way. It was kind of still too dark, but she could always bring some task lighting down later. She settled in at the PC — which was entirely unpassword protected, _what the fuck Kukui?_ — and found the folder she’d been referred to.

It _was_ as bad as it sounded. It seemed as though 90% of Kukui’s data was qualitative. There was somewhere in the range of two hundred files in the folder, and a lot of them were videos of Kukui being attacked by his own pokémon. They had names like “Z_rock_rockruff_stone-edge_side-a_01.mp4,” so at least they were organized better than his books… the other files were named similarly, but ending in ‘.txt’ — they only contained short notes like _“that took out a way bigger section of beach than when we did it w rocktomb!!!”_

“I guess ‘more destruction’ is sort of a quantitative statement,” Tesni muttered to herself, but none of the data here looked like the kind of numerical, spreadsheet-driven stuff she liked to get really stuck in. It also seemed like he only used one pokémon for each move he was researching, which wasn’t necessarily statistically significant.

For all his renown, Tesni was beginning to think perhaps she did have something to offer Kukui in terms of a scientific team-up. It made sense, she supposed — having spent a little time with the man, she’d realized they were actually close to the same age.

She tapped a finger rhythmically over her lips, staring at some point beyond the monitor, considering.

There was another file on his desktop — ‘invoices.’ She scrolled through it. He apparently already owned pyrometers, seismographs, anemometers, accelerometers… all sorts of fancy tools. He had the equipment to do the type of research she wanted to do, _somewhere_. He just hadn’t.

She pulled up a blank document and began to put together a plan.

  


  


Guzma lingered in Hau’oli, taking his time getting off the ferry and making sure he saw Luna vanishing off to the west before he even left the pier. The issue wasn’t Luna, though, it was that he didn’t really want to go back to Hala’s place.

It was better than staying at his parents’ — less chance of throwing down with his dad, and he felt more like he was actually doing something. But for one thing, he wasn’t the only trainer staying with Hala. Having roommates was a load of bullshit he didn’t want to deal with, and Hala himself always had some other load of bullshit he was trying to foist off on Guzma. Bullying him into Tai-Chi at the ass-crack of dawn at the beach, or helping out at the trainer’s school with a million squalling children. Not things he was suited for, and he couldn’t figure out how they were meant to improve him as a trainer.

He wandered the beaches for a while, until the light started to fade, then turned his attention to the shops. He procrastinated in a corner store — the only store in Hau’oli that didn’t make him feel wildly out of place — looking over groceries long enough that the cashier started to get irritable.

He knew he needed to head back soon. He’d stormed off the day before, and he’d learned from experience that if he spent too long out of contact, Hala would send Luna after him. He wouldn’t say “go hunt Guzma down,” but he’d say something about being _worried_ , and Luna would show up to irritate him until he gave up and went back.

He _would_ go back regardless. He wanted to do better, to be better. Stronger, in a few different ways.

He just needed a break sometimes.

He sighed and selected a brand of cocoa powder and a few frozen meals. One of his bitch roommates was drinking all his cocoa so he’d been needing to restock frequently. It was a bitch and a half, considering there was no significant money to be made in battling the trainers around Melemele.

The cashier looked unimpressed with both Guzma and his selections. Guzma searched the voluminous pockets of his sweatpants, and before his fingers encountered his wallet, they encountered a crumpled up bill.

His mood crumpled a little further too.

He set the hundred dollar bill on the counter, feeling pissed off and paid-for at the reminder of his night. Tesni had left it on the coffee table and he had felt increasingly used ever since picking it up. He should have bailed as soon as they headed up to that stupid-ass hotel, should have known better to get involved with another rich-bitch looking for a dip downtown.

It had been fun though. She seemed on the level, attainable, not like she was stratospheres away from the whole plane of his existence. It hadn’t felt like some weird transactional thing until she’d abruptly left cash on the table and _split_. She’d practically run out the door.

He could have not taken the money, but if he was going to be pissed about it either way, he may as well be pissed and a hundred dollars richer.

He wished he felt more flattered than aggravated, but honestly, he had some experience selling out to rich women. Sex might have been a new and unintentional way to go about it, but if he had gone out _intending_ to sell his body, he would have charged more. Probably. He didn’t know the going rate on these things, and he wasn’t happy to even be wondering.

“I’m not breaking a hundred for you,” the cashier said.

“ _Seriously?_ ” Guzma said — twigging to the fact that the cashier had specified _him_.

The cashier shrugged.

Grumbling, Guzma opened his wallet, taking back the hundred and throwing a few twenties on the counter.

  


  


Night was coming on properly as Guzma finished the long hike up the hill to Hala’s home. He hoped that meant he would be able to get in undetected.

No such luck.

“Ah, Guzma! Did you have a good time at the Battle Royal?” Hala was standing on the ceremonial platform out front of the house, arms crossed but eyes scrunched up in a pleased expression.

Guzma frowned, about to ask how Hala knew what he’d been up to, when he spotted Luna, _the greasy little narc_ , standing behind him along with a woman in a white headscarf he hadn’t met. He could see her body language locking up at his arrival, arms crossing and expressions smoothing out to blank.

“It was fine,” Guzma said shortly, determinedly heading around the sumo platform with long strides, hoping to avoid introduction to another resident of Hala’s Happy Home for Wayward Trainers. If he didn’t acknowledge them, they couldn’t steal his snacks.

“Guzma, come meet Beyza,” Hala ordered.

“My groceries are going to melt,” Guzma objected, up the porch steps and reaching for the door.

“Guzma, don’t be so cold,” Hala said.

“That’s the problem,” Guzma muttered, sighing and slouching his way over to the platform. He dragged his feet, footfalls heavy at each stair.

Hala’s eyebrows tilted down a few degrees, smile fixed.

“Beyza, huh?” Guzma asked. She was moderately tall, dressed in grey and cream layers over black leggings. Her face beneath her white headscarf was brown-skinned, with sharp, dark features, and a single stud in her nose.

“Yes, it is a pleasure to meet you, Guzma,” she said, expression unfriendly. She didn’t offer to shake hands.

“Beyza is the former champion of Unova,” Hala said, “she’ll be staying here while she assembles a steel-type team to take over a gym there.”

“A working vacation huh?” Guzma said, consciously trying to remove the sneer from his tone. It maybe didn’t work very well.

“I suppose,” Beyza said, eyes flickering away in what was not quite a roll.

“She’s going to give me cool foreign pokémon if I bring her local steel types,” Luna said.

Beyza looked like that was news to her. “If they have the appropriate nature I guess we could figure something out,” she said, a small frown on her face.

“We will,” Luna said confidently.

“I’ll let you work that out,” Guzma said, turning to head inside.

Before he made it off the platform however, Hau came screaming up the hill.

“ _Luuuuunaaa!_ ” he called, tearing up the stairs to the platform and skidding to a stop, “Lillie’s back!” he said breathlessly, hands on knees, panting.

“No she’s not,” Luna said, “she would have said something.”

“She didn’t say anything when she was leaving,” Hau pointed out insistently, “and there’s a light on in her loft!”

Luna was perfectly still for a moment, pleasant smile fixed on her face, eyes wide and blinking.

“Okay!” she said, and she and Hau tore off together down the hill, taking all the energy with them.

Guzma went to put away his frozen food.

  


  


Pajamas on, Tesni dropped down from the loft, too impatient to take the ladder responsibly. She was feeling optimistic about things, energized by being in motion again. She twisted her torso, stretching, and considered her new space.

The main floor of Kukui’s lab was airy and spacious and brightly lit, all warm woods and mismatched bookcases. There was a small seating area with a sectional sofa and a TV, a galley kitchen open to the room, with a breakfast bar running along the side with the sink and stove in lieu of a proper dining area, a large pet bed for his pokémon, and a continuation of the vertical aquarium from downstairs blooming into the room.

Her loft was a converted storage area, above the bathroom and master bedroom — which, Kukui had assured her, he stayed in infrequently. He had finished up some big project, and apparently was rebalancing his schedule to spend more time with his wife, who lived on an _entirely separate island_.

(Tesni had some rude comments she could make about that, but she was honestly kind of jealous when she compared it to the way-too-clingy or entirely-uncommitted relationships she’d suffered through in the past.)

Her loft was obviously set up for someone much girlier than her, but that could be fixed in time. The previous occupant had even left a diary, which Tesni had flipped through only enough to identify before moving it away from the little desk and into one of the bookshelves in the loft. She was glad she wasn’t tall, otherwise the cozy space would feel claustrophobic. She had found clean sheets for the futon — and wasn’t that a blast from her collegiate past — made it up, and realized she was starving.

Kukui had told her to help herself, so she was going to cheerfully rifle through all his cupboards for food. Ordinarily, she’d probably have just succumbed to the urge for takeout — Hau’oli was not a long walk — but it was dark, she didn’t know the way particularly well, and, honestly, she was too invested in being in pajamas right now to go out in public.

Unfortunately, she mused, as she opened the cupboards, Kukui’s last assistant must have either lived on perishable food (rather than shelf-stable snacks, like a good scientist) or really cleaned the place out before she left. The cupboards were utterly bare, beyond a few basic spices and a generic dry pokémon feed which she set aside. She opened the fridge, and the situation was similar — a pitcher of water and a ziploc bag of suspicious flat brown rectangles were all that was immediately apparent. She picked up the ziploc and turned it over. It was labeled ‘JERKY’ in a neat block print, along with a recent date and a little heart.

Home made jerky? Fancy. She set it on the counter by the stove for consumption, then resumed looking through the fridge.

A half consumed tub of butter, a bottle of mustard… She finally opened the opaque vegetable crispers in the bottom, and, inexplicably there was a box of donut holes there.

Donut holes _and_ jerky? Fanci _er._ Clearly the meal of kings.

She found some bowls and poured out two portions of the pokémon feed. She didn’t want to deal with Hotbod or Dipshit at the same time as everyone else, so she’d feed them later. She released Steropé and Crime Baby and they looked around their new environment curiously before heading over to the food bowls

“Okay team,” she said as she settled herself at the breakfast bar. She wasn’t comfortable enough in the space yet to get crumbs all over the couch. “Welcome to the new place. It might excite you to know that I have accepted an assistant position.” Steropé and Crime Baby didn’t look up from their bowls. “We’re right on the water, so that’s kind of neat.”

Steropé looked up from her food long enough to chitter encouragingly at her. Tesni smiled, and popped some jerky in her mouth.

The jerky was tangy and salty, perhaps some kind of teriyaki flavor? A little chewy, but definitely had better texture than store bought. She guilty indulged in an alternating pattern of jerky-donut-jerky, mixing salty and sweet. The donuts were dry and cold, but still perfectly edible.

“I dunno guys, I’m feeling optimistic. This is, uh, a route back to normal. I think.”

Experimentally, Tesni popped a piece of jerky and a donut hole in her mouth simultaneously. She had just decided this was a mistake when the door burst open and two _children_ skidded to a stop.

“ _Arceus_ — _oof_ ,” Tesni said,choking a little.

“Lillie!” the boy shouted, looking around. The girl behind him stayed quiet, expression smiling.

“Knock why don’t you?” Tesni said. “What the fuck?”

The boy frowned, “Who are you?”

“I _live_ here, who are you?” Tesni said. Steropé clicked loudly, coming to stand by Tesni.

“I’m Hau, this is Luna,” the boy said. “Where’s Lillie?”

“Look _Hau_ , your little girlfriend isn’t here,” Tesni said.

“Actually Lillie is _my_ little girlfriend,” Luna said, still smiling pleasantly, “is that a shiny pokémon?”

Tesni followed Luna’s gaze over to Crime Baby. “Yes,” she said shortly.

“Trade you for it?” Luna said.

“What could you possibly offer to me to get me to trade away a shiny pokémon after _barging into my home uninvited?”_ Tesni said.

“A magikarp?” Luna asked.

Tesni laughed once, sharply. “Wow, okay, no. Also, you should get out of here.”

“A solgaleo,” Luna said.

“A what-now?” Tesni asked, at the same time as Hau said, “What? Wait—”

“It’s a legendary,” Luna said, and released _a lion the size of the size of a bus into the fucking living room._ It stepped delicately to avoid crushing the sofa.

And then.

It roared with strange, dual toned subharmonics and the air vibrated oddly. A wave passed through the room and as it washed over Tesni it felt like her hands, meeting the wave first, were briefly disconnected from her torso by ages in time.

“Put it away! Put it away _now!_ ” Tesni ordered.

Luna, expression unchanged, did so.

“What the fuck,” Tesni repeated.

“You swear a lot,” Hau said.

“I think I swear the perfect amount,” Tesni said hotly.

“You won’t trade even for a legendary?” Luna asked.

“Why would you trade a fucking _god_ for my shitty blue venonat?” Tesni asked. She felt like she should be up and pacing, but she had been on the stool at the breakfast bar too long. It’d feel like ceding something to get up now. She shoved a donut hole in her mouth anxiously.

“Everyone has a legendary,” Luna said.

“Literally _no one_ has a—it’s a _god!_ ‘ _A’_ legendary?” Tesni‘s voice was pitching up in a way she didn’t care for.

“Not everyone has a shiny,” Luna said.

“More people than there are wandering around with—with, _you know_ ,” Tesni said. “I would really like it if you left,” she added desperately.

“Okay,” Luna said. She remained still.

“So Lillie isn’t here?” Hau said.

“No. Was that the professor’s previous assistant?”

“Yeah,” Hau said, “She’s a good friend of ours.”

“And my girlfriend. In case that was unclear,” Luna said. “We’re long distance.”

“Cute,” Tesni said flatly.

Nobody moved.

Steropé clicked, and Crime Baby let out a low noise of unease.

“So you’re the professor’s new assistant?” Hau asked, shifting a little.

“Yes — were you going to get going? Isn’t it past your bedtime?”

“I don’t have a bedtime,” Luna said.

“I do what I want,” Hau said, defensively.

“What _I_ want is to go to bed and rebuild my shattered sense of security,” Tesni said, “which requires you two to leave.”

“Okay,” Hau said, “Let us know if you need any help settling in. Luna lives right next door, and I’m up the hill in Iki town.”

“Great,” Tesni said, uncomfortably. Great. Luna was her neighbor. _Great_.

 _Everything was fine_.

“Thanks,” Tesni said, and got to her feet, “I’ll walk you out.” She did so, walking all of the fifteen feet to the door to usher the two of them through. “Goodnight! Have a safe trip home!”

The two filed out and vanished into the night.

Tesni closed the door and sat down in front of it, breathing heavily. Steropé approached her chittering, bending down to run her feelers over her face soothingly. Crime Baby climbed into her lap.

“Good Baby,” Tesni said, eyes wide.


End file.
